Breakfast
by DCM
Summary: A short standalone; modern. A glimpse into one morning for Darcy and Lizzy. Please read and review; comments greatly appreciated!


**AN: Just a shortie... hope you enjoy. :) -DCM**

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Breakfast

Her eyes opened slowly, revealing the room in fragments; soft light passing through the filmy drapes which had been drawn closed the night before. The brightness was subtle: it had the beginnings of warmth to come later; yet it lacked the overwhelming glare of the morning sun. Light streamed from the windows, its temper mild, bathing the room in a soft, white glow; the shadows turning subtle under its slow, steady assault.

It was mornings like this, Lizzy thought, that confirmed her love of early starts; of rising up to face a new day; a smile playing on her lips as she stretched languidly in bed; as she breathed the cool air in before throwing the rumpled sheets off her legs.

Today, however, she suppressed the urge to stretch her limbs freely; and as she had woken up on her side, opted to roll her neck and shoulders as gently as she could. The sheets, which by now were used to being thrown to the floor in haste every morning, were instead lifted off her bottom half carefully – one might use the word "peeled" to describe the manner she used – accomplishing two very favorable results.

The first being the liberty her legs had gained: without the constricting material over them, they were free to flex and stretch as they pleased – and flex and stretch they did, as quietly and gently as she could manage.

The second was, in the process of uncovering her lower half… she had also deliberately uncovered the long limbs of the figure (she had been careful not to disturb) lying beside her. And while her body was already humming, slowly waking up to the day; the body inches from hers lay still and slumbering in peace, its rest uninterrupted by her measured movements in bed.

Her eyes roamed his feet – what she could see of them from her vantage point – up the strong calves lightly dusted with hair, to his thighs, which, to her mild amusement, had crossed sometime in the night, the right one resting over the left, like they were hiding a delicious secret. She followed the dark hairs that began just below the dark shadow of his belly up his chest, where they thinned out to a light sprinkling. His left hand had hidden underneath his pillow, so she contented herself with examining his right; giving each long, graceful finger its due attention, feeling the blush in her cheeks as she remembered how those elegant fingers had spent their time last night.

Lizzy sighed softly and shook the memory away from her head – if she got distracted now then she might never finish her visual exploration – and moved her gaze up his muscled arms, to the slope of his strong shoulders, and the side of his neck, where the ends of his dark hair rested. She would never let him near his old barber now – the one who cut his hair like he detested combs – not without her in tow at least, for she had grown used to having his hair this long, to feeling its softness through her fingers as she kissed him…

She caught her left hand in mid-air – hovering a breath away from his ear, scolding herself for almost giving in to impulse. Clenching her fingers, she placed it in the space between their pillows, then changed her mind at the last second, burying it under hers, feeling the pillow bunch up beneath her right jaw. Her eyes moved back to his neck, dwelling on it for just a second before moving to his stubbled jaw, relaxed in sleep; then on to his soft – temptingly *soft* – lips; and at this (after breathing out a long sigh that sounded remarkably like a moan) she forced her eyes up the long straight line of his nose, refusing to spend more than a few seconds categorizing each of his remaining features.

Her resolve wavered when his lashes fluttered abruptly against his cheeks, calling her attention – and she held her breath, waiting to see if he would awaken, not knowing if she was to feel relieved or disappointed when the fluttering stopped, and his breathing once again deepened. Lizzy's gaze shifted to rest on his closed eyelids, her mind picturing the intense blueness of his eyes behind it – eyes that had held a determination in their darkness last night; and a light shiver ran down her back at the memory of his heated stare just before they'd tumbled into bed.

The coolness of the room had almost completely gone, leaving her body in a warm, feverish flush. And yet it had only been minutes since she had woken up – barely enough time for the sun to fully rise and bring heat into the room – minutes since she'd let her eyes wander idly over his form. The activity she had thought would let her pass the time favourably so early in the day had, instead, left her wanting. Her gaze, at first leisurely, had turned restless as she moved from one body part to another; and Lizzy felt the uncontrollable urge to possess each of these delectable parts, as slowly as she could manage, bit by enticing bit…

Her eyes made a quick assessment of his naked form: his eyes remained closed, his breathing remained even…

This time, she wasn't going to use just her eyes.

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**AN # 2: Yes, it's the morning after. :)**


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